Scars
by MissAppropriation
Summary: During the Sports Festival finals, Shoto learns some things about his classmates, while Bakugo learns nothing. Todoroki-Bakugo friendship, Gen. Trigger warning for referenced child abuse.


**Scars**

Bakugo sat on the edge of the bed as the Nurse Lady examined him.

He'd avoided coming here up until now: accelerated healing must have a price, just like any other Quirk. There just weren't shortcuts, despite what the vast majority of the population seemed to believe about the Pro Hero society.

Besides, he didn't especially like people touching him, making a big deal about his injuries...

Unfortunately, after his match with Weird Hair, he didn't have much of a choice.

He had to be at his best if he wanted to win against Half and Half. And wearing down Weird Hair had required him to push slightly past the limits of comfort.

The kid was _strong_.

But in the end, Weird Hair's mistake had been the same as everyone else at the Festival...

They all thought it was about strength.

It wasn't, really. Sure, that would get you in the running.

But winning was always about _weakness_...

Yours versus your opponent's.

Everyone had a weak spot and Kacchan would climb ever higher by discovering and exploiting those weaknesses.

Weird Hair was on the other bed, one arm over his partially-healed face, resting or possibly dwelling on his failure.

Nurse Lady had said something about bandaging up Weird Hair's remaining injuries, but Kacchan hadn't really been listening. He'd heard enough to know that he had indeed been right about a cost.

Now she was fussing over Kacchan, angling his face towards the light to look at the cut on his cheek, examining his arms, turning his hands over to look at the mild burns on his palms, asking if it hurt anywhere.

He grunted his responses in a way his mother wouldn't have approved of, thinking about his next match. He'd be up against Bird Boy.

It hardly mattered, really. It would certainly be him and Half and Half in the end now. That was the match that mattered.

The _only_ one that mattered.

But, he reminded himself, that didn't mean he could let his guard down in the meantime. He still didn't know Bird Boy's weakness...

"You children this year," Nurse Lady tutted, "what is Aizawa-san teaching you? Quirks aren't meant to cause this much damage. It's a Sports Festival, but you'd think you kids were fighting for your lives."

Bakugo didn't answer. He didn't expect her to understand, nor did she need to.

He was missing a match... But it was Glasses against Half and Half: the outcome was essentially predetermined and it wouldn't likely last long enough to teach him anything really useful.

Still...

"Hey," he asked, "are you gonna keep me here all day?"

"You have another match, don't you?" she said with what seemed like amused condescension, as if she was talking to a small child about a sandcastle he was building.

Kacchan gave her a glowering look but didn't yell. She was practically a teacher, and yelling at teachers wasn't smart.

Even at Aldera, that had best been avoided.

She looked at him through that purple visor. He wondered if it had a specific function.

If it did, it was probably already in Deku's stupid Hero Notebook.

After all, he'd been here to see her... How many times now?

They must be best friends at this point.

Kacchan sneered reflexively, feeling the fire of rage in his gut.

_Deku._

"I'm sure they'll wait for you," Nurse Lady said in the silence. "Now, we have a couple of choices here. Since you need to fight again..." She huffed a sigh and shook her head. "... I can heal you completely, but it will be at the cost of reducing your stamina."

_Ah,_ Kacchan thought.

That made sense.

That explained why Deku had needed surgery, why he had seemed so worn out after... After...

Kacchan pushed the thought away.

He had to _focus_.

Why did he keep having to deal with this?!

Even when that little nerd wasn't _here_, he kept messing stuff up! Deku wasn't even supposed to _be_ at UA!

"I'm going to die of old age before you heal me!" he interrupted impatiently.

Nurse Lady tsk-ed disapprovingly. "I don't appreciate your tone, young man. I'm trying to explain your options."

He shut up, albeit reluctantly.

She nodded and continued. "The other option, if the pain isn't too bad -" She broke off with a questioning look and Kacchan shrugged moodily, "- would be for me to heal you partially and perform some basic first aid on your more minor cuts and burns. I think you hurt yourself more than your opponent did."

Kacchan glared over his shoulder at Weird Hair and thought he detected a sneaking smile under the arm. He turned back to Nurse Lady with the deadly stare that had always stopped everyone in their tracks at Aldera. "Shut up," he hissed.

She seemed annoyingly unaffected. "So, what would you like me to do?" she asked.

He thought about it for a couple of seconds. It was an important decision.

"Whatever, the first aid one, I don't care!" he told her once he'd weighed the options. "Just get on with it already!"

She shook her head, mildly disappointed. "So rude, do you talk to all of your elders this way?"

She hobbled off to gather some supplies and Kacchan went back to worrying about how he was going to beat Half and Half.

If he even _could_...

_No_, he reminded himself.

He _had_ to.

He'd told the entire country that he would be Number One.

They wouldn't know _why_ he'd done that, of course. They would assume it was arrogance or overconfidence.

Quite the opposite.

That declaration was for _himself_.

With no other option... He'd have to find a way.

That's how it always worked.

It was about _motivation_.

And thanks to Deku, he knew that Half and Half _did_ have limits, massive though they were.

He thought again of the raw _power_ of that fight and swallowed down the panic, trying to control his breathing as Nurse Lady puttered around, opening bandages and ointment packets.

It was fine.

That doubt he'd felt the first time he'd seen that ice power, the fear he had felt when he'd assumed he couldn't win against someone like that...

The sheer, spinning _terror_ of watching _Deku_, of all people, unleash blasts of such incredible proportions...

He honestly hadn't known going in who would win that match. Though he'd known the victor would certainly be his final opponent.

He'd watched closely.

Kacchan frowned. The whole thing had been completely uncontrolled.

He remembered what Deku had said, after their matchup in Ground Beta: that he _hadn't_ been born with a Quirk, that someone had _given_ it to him.

It was impossible, of course.

But... The way Deku used it, systematically destroying fingers and entire limbs just to compete...

Kacchan squirmed as the nightmare image of a burned and shaking Deku came to mind once again. Damaged by both Kacchan's Quirk and his own, collapsing in a pathetic heap on the floor.

Again, he pushed it away, focusing on the puzzle once more.

It was nonsense, of course. Quirks weren't transferrable. _Everyone_ knew that.

But… It fit the facts a little too well.

And if it were true... What would that even _mean_?

Who would give away a power like that...?

And _why_?

… Why to _Deku_?

Who even _had_ power like that...?

Whoever it was, they should probably be teaching Deku how to actually _use_ it properly.

Maybe they were as much of an idiot as Deku was.

Only...

A strange thought struck Kacchan and he couldn't _quite_ dismiss it.

Nurse Lady... She couldn't heal injuries without draining stamina in return. Deku's fingers had still been bandaged from his bizarre match with that Purple-Haired kid who looked like he'd slept in a wind tunnel.

How had Deku expected to fight after the damage he had done to himself against Half and Half?

How had he expected to go on after he _won?_

_Had_ he expected to win?

It almost seemed as if he'd never even planned to go on to the next level.

He'd done all that... And that wasn't even him trying to _win_?

Had he lost _on purpose_?

While Kacchan was trying to process that, he felt a sickeningly familiar slippery-sticky texture on his palm and his mind went completely blank as he panicked.

...

Shoto walked towards Recovery Girl's office, following the signs automatically, lost in thought.

_"It's ok for you... You can become whoever you want to be."_

He'd spent all these years viewing his mother as a saint, as a victim.

His father as the devil.

He hadn't been wrong, but... Maybe he had blamed her, too, just a little.

Or himself.

He'd been afraid to face that before, never really able to decide, all these years, which of them had been more hurt by her actions that day.

He'd ignored it, pushed it down, held onto the anger as if it was strength.

His life had been a dark tunnel, with a light at the end that he walked towards eternally. Always too far away to accurately judge the distance to his destination.

Now... Now it was like the world had opened up around him.

Everything was bigger and sadder and more wonderful than he had realized.

He didn't quite know what to do with it all.

It was like he had been blind and was suddenly seeing for the first time.

All the colors, the shapes, the possibilities...

It was overwhelming.

He didn't know where to start.

He'd tried to thank Midoriya, but Recovery Girl's office had been closed for surgery.

Instead, he'd run into Bakugo in the hallway, aimless and scowling.

Todoroki had remembered then that they were friends. Since they were very young, apparently. He'd heard Uraraka talking to the other girls about it.

So he'd asked Bakugo how Midoriya was doing and had been met with a shouted, "You should know, Half and Half!" And Bakugo had stalked off like he'd been insulted.

The part of Todoroki's brain which was still actually processing information instead of swimming with emotions and memories filed this away as a confusing interaction.

It casually pointed out that Midoriya and Bakugo didn't seem to have much in common, didn't behave like friends.

Perhaps Midoriya had a habit of seeing the good in others at his own expense.

Shouting drew his attention back to the present as he neared the infirmary.

"Bakugo, calm down, she's only trying to help!"

"No one asked you, Weird Hair!"

Shoto peeked around the doorframe under the cute sign, curious.

Bakugo was standing in the middle of the office, left hand held as far away from his body as it could reach, right hand sparking threateningly.

Kirishima was on his feet behind his classmate, clearly trying to talk him down.

Bakugo was ignoring these efforts, laser-focused on Recovery Girl, who seemed entirely calm, as if they were all merely discussing having tea together.

"I'll need you to tell me what you're so upset about if I'm going to fix it," she said reasonably.

"_This_," Bakugo said, gesturing at his left hand disgustedly. "What is _this_? What kind of a quack are you, huh?"

"Bakugo, come one, man..." Kirishima interjected, only to be met with a glare that could strip paint. He clamped his pointed teeth shut.

There was something behind the anger in Bakugo's stare, though. Todoroki couldn't place it right away, though he knew he recognized it.

Recovery Girl's gaze lingered thoughtfully on the source of Bakugo's rage. "It's a standard burn treatment... Do you have an allergy?"

"None of your business!" he shouted, advancing to tower over the tiny woman, the explosions in his right hand getting louder and brighter. "Stop talking and just get this _kuso OFF ME._"

"Whatever you say," Recovery Girl acquiesced readily. "Sit down."

Just like that, Bakugo backed off.

Kirishima sat on the edge of the other bed, uncertain and tense.

Bakugo was obviously still angry, so much so that he was visibly shaking.

But there were no more threats, no more shouts as Recovery Girl carefully wiped the ointment from his hand.

When she finished, he pulled his hand back and rubbed it roughly over his trousers with eyes closed, expression nauseated.

Then he sighed and Todoroki could almost feel the relief, all the way across the room.

The part of his brain that liked solving puzzles was extremely interested by all of this.

The emotional part was finding some unpleasant parallels in the yelling, fire and deliberate intimidation.

But Shoto had learned long ago that not everyone was his old man.

Recovery Girl pursed her lips at her patient's rough treatment of his own presumably-raw skin, but she said nothing until he opened his eyes and returned to the present.

"What are you looking at?!" he demanded immediately.

"If first aid is out of the question, what would you like me to do?" she asked.

"Just heal me, old woman! What kind of a question is that?!" Bakugo yelled, somehow entirely unimpressive.

"Very well," she sighed. "You boys, I just don't know what to do with you. I'm glad I'm not your teacher."

She healed him and instead of saying _Thank You_, Bakugo shouted about how weird her Quirk was and hurried out of the office.

He stopped as he saw Todoroki standing outside the door.

Red eyes went wide in an expression that looked remarkably like dismay.

Then Bakugo growled like a cornered animal, kicked the wall and headed off towards the stadium without a word.

Todoroki stepped into the office and Recovery girl sat him on a bed to wait while she bandaged Kirishima's head.

Kirishima's eyebrows were pulled together in puzzlement, his expression concerned. He fidgeted until Recovery Girl told him to stop, then started up again, absently scratching at his head while she was trying to wrap it.

"What do you think that was all about?" Shoto asked in a low voice as Recovery Girl finished and moved away.

Kirishima looked up as if he'd forgotten anyone else was there. He shrugged in consternation. "I don't know. He's not usually like that, you know?"

Todoroki raised his eyebrows silently. He didn't know his classmates all that well, and there were certain contradictions to Bakugo in particular that he still didn't quite understand.

But...

Kirishima saw what he was thinking and reiterated. "Not like _that_, I mean. I know he's loud and -" he mimed an explosion in lieu of words "- but he's... Well, you saw him at USJ." He made a face that spoke of nothing but admiration and Todoroki wondered what Bakugo could have done to make Kirishima believe in him like that. Even _care_ about him.

This wasn't a childhood friend; Kirishima had met Bakugo when the rest of them had. He wasn't the sort of person who would admire a bully. He hadn't demonstrated any traits which were anything other than kind and reasonable.

One good person with a blind spot for the class's resident problem child was an exception. Two required a new theory.

Todoroki thought back to USJ, wondering what Kirishima was referring to. He'd met up with them both just before they'd all reached the main party of villains.

What had Kirishima seen that Todoroki hadn't?

He wanted to ask but...

He'd try to figure it out on his own first.

Whatever Kirishima thought they had both seen, it had clearly convinced him beyond a shadow of a doubt that Bakugo was someone worthy of being looked up to.

Even a friend. Though Bakugo didn't really seem to _have_ friends.

_Well, that was one thing Shoto and Bakugo had in common, then,_ Todoroki thought with detached amusement.

Still, there was clearly something about Bakugo that Shoto just wasn't understanding...

But it didn't seem Kirishima had the whole story either. "That was..." he finished as Recovery Girl returned. "I don't know what that was."

"Perhaps he's just having a bad day," Recovery Girl interjected.

Kirishima flashed a humorous half-smile and gestured to his head. "_I'm_ having a bad day. He's won every one of his matches. He's probably going to win the whole tournament!" His eyes met Todoroki's a bit awkwardly. "No offense."

"That's fine," he told Kirishima so he'd know he hadn't overstepped.

Recovery Girl reached up to make one more adjustment to Kirishima's bandages. "That may be, but not all struggles are physical. And wounds of the mind are much harder to heal. Remember: heroes, like teachers, need to be understanding of the whole picture, the whole person. I have the easy job."

She smacked Kirishima's wrist lightly. "Now get out of my infirmary. The rest of your class will be in here any minute at this rate."

Kirishima gave a wide smile which was remarkably unintimidating for containing so many sharp teeth. "Thanks, Recovery Girl!" He jumped off the bed with way too much energy for someone in an infirmary. "See ya, Todoroki! Good luck in the final!"

"Thanks," Todoroki said. He couldn't resist probing for a little information. "Any advice?"

"You know..." Kirishima said thoughtfully, tapping his chin. "No one's ever _really_ beaten either of you yet, so... Not really. But even if I had a way," he shrugged, "I wouldn't tell you how to beat the guy I'm rooting for."

It was about the answer he'd expected.

"Thanks anyway," Todoroki said.

Kirishima gave him a double thumbs up and headed out back to the stands.

Recovery Girl healed Todoroki's scratches and bruises from when Iida had kicked him.

Iida was impressive, as expected of Ingenium's long family line of heroes.

Recovery Girl dismissed him and he left the office.

He paused in the hallway as he heard Recovery Girl making a phone call. "Moshi moshi, Aizawa-san. We need to talk about one of your students." A pause. "What do you know about Bakugo's history? His file says his mother's Quirk is glycerin production, yes? There are some things I think you should be aware of..."

Todoroki left, puzzling over this.

It wasn't surprising that she had informed their teacher of his student's explosive freakout. That made perfect sense.

But why had she specifically mentioned _glycerin_?

Part of Shoto's education had been to study first aid treatments and he knew that glycerin was widely used in burn treatments...

But Recovery Girl had clearly seen a connection which was eluding Todoroki.

He felt very stupid as his brain tried awkwardly to shove the puzzle pieces together into a formation that worked.

He'd definitely been better at this when he'd only been worried about defeating his old man, when he'd been filled with nothing but anger and resolve.

He kept hearing his mother's voice as he tried to think straight. Waves of emotion spreading and playing through his head like hot and cold currents, desperately trying to achieve equilibrium.

...

Bird Boy had turned out to be easy.

How convenient that Kacchan had found himself up against an opponent whose weakness was bright lights.

Stun Grenade was one of the first special moves Kacchan had ever perfected.

Now that he knew, Bird Boy would never be a threat to his Number One spot.

One more he could check off the list.

He'd seen Half and Half watching as he won, something judgmental in that mismatched gaze.

He stared right back.

_You may be Endeavor's son,_ he thought, _but I'll find your limit. I'll kill you, just like the rest._

Half and Half would need to learn to content himself with being Number Two, just like his father.

There was no All Might here to challenge him and that meant the Number One spot was up for grabs. And Kacchan intended to seize it, mercilessly.

That connection which kept intruding on Kacchan's thoughts surfaced again as he made his way back to the nurse's office.

_"In that instant, I was overpowered,"_ Half and Half had said. _"Only me, who had experienced All Might's full power up close... It means I felt something similar coming from you."_

Deku was _not_ All Might's secret child. That was patently absurd.

First of all... All Might and Midoriya Inko?

Gross.

Besides, Kacchan had met Deku's father and there was no doubt that they were related, despite how counterintuitive it seemed for the boy who would never talk back to be descended from a man who could breathe _actual fire_.

So, that had been easily dismissed.

But the rest of the conversation had been far more uncomfortable.

Deku had effectively confirmed that there _was_ some connection between himself and All Might.

And then there was the Ground Beta training exercise, the conversation after...

_"Someone gave me this Quirk,"_ Deku had said, as implausible as that had sounded at the time.

And at USJ... The speed with which Deku had vanished, jumping to defend All Might.

Kacchan was _fast_, but even he couldn't follow that speed.

It was like that Nomu guy...

Like All Might.

... _Exactly_ like.

And the power which Deku had unleashed against Half and Half...

It was eerily familiar and Kacchan felt a sinking feeling at how perfectly it all seemed to line up...

But no, All Might clearly still had his Quirk.

Besides, if he somehow had All Might's power, how could he lose to _anyone_, let alone Endeavor's son?

Could even _Deku_ be that much of a loser?

Still... A lot of things had happened lately which made no sense.

Kacchan couldn't help dwelling on it all, searching for the solution to the riddle, if only to dismiss the uneasiness that sat like a living thing in his gut, squirming every time he thought he'd supressed it for good.

He knew, deep down, and the evidence kept adding up...

Something was going on... Something _big_.

_Deku_ knew what it was.

Kacchan would have asked if it weren't so obvious that the little nerd was keeping it from him deliberately.

Kacchan reached the office and marched inside, loudly demanding to be healed. He ignored Nurse Lady's small talk completely, screwing up his face as she did that weird kissing thing and set him back to full health.

He scrubbed at his eyes as his stamina drained in response and his body begged him to take a quick nap.

Obviously, that wasn't an option.

Later.

Let the losers sleep.

The winner would be the one who kept fighting until everyone else had given up and fallen by the wayside.

It would be _him_.

When he opened his eyes, Nurse Lady was just watching him. Silent, somehow looking down on him even from her lower vantage point.

It reminded him of Deku and rekindled the anger.

"What are you staring at?" he asked, just shy of shouting.

"I've been watching the matches, when I can," she said. "That was impressive, the way you found young Tokoyami's weakness."

"Huh?" he grunted.

_Who...?_

"Tokoyami Fumikage, your last opponent," she said.

"Oh," he shrugged.

_Bird Boy._

"He thought you were fighting all out when you were only testing his limits."

Oh.

She wasn't stupid, then.

Kacchan gave her a stare. "What's your point?"

"You're impressive," she said simply. "I've seen a lot of First Years at in my time. The school usually goes to great lengths to push them, to draw out their potential. You seem to have been doing this yourself. For a very long time."

Kacchan glared, thinking about Deku, about the extras at Aldera, about his mother and her ever-burning ambition.

He thought about the villain attack last year.

About fighting for his life while being eaten alive...

He could still taste that sewage sometimes, when he thought he was losing.

It was burned into his brain forever as the taste of failure.

He'd been hopelessly outmatched.

Unprepared and _weak_.

And he'd vowed on that day that that would _never_ happen again.

That he would never again be in a position where someone like _Deku_ would have to try to save him.

It had been _humiliating_.

He was going to be a _hero,_ wasn't he?

People like Deku, they were the ones who needed saving.

It was all upside down.

How pitiful was he, to have weaker people risking their lives for him?

He'd failed in his dream of being a hero that day, before he had even started.

And Half and Half, Deku...?

They thought _they_ had something to prove?

What, Deku's mysterious power, one he'd never exhibited before entering UA, came with _that much _pressure to succeed?

Half and Half's issues with Endeavor meant that he had to defeat _everyone_?

Who did they think they were?!

Kacchan had been dreaming of being a hero for as long as he could remember.

Instead, he had become famous for one of his most humiliating and horrifying experiences ever.

Famous for being a _victim_.

Who would ever respect a hero like that?

The Sports Festival was his chance to reset the narrative, to gain fame instead as a _winner_.

To blow everyone away so thoroughly with his indisputable victory that he'd never have to hear the whispers about "sludge villain" _ever_ again.

He'd erase it.

He'd start over.

Rewrite the story.

When he was a hero, when he was above even All Might... They'd all talk about _this_.

Today.

_This_ win.

Deku couldn't understand that. Nor could Half and Half with his petty, selfish goals.

And this lady thought she knew him... Why? Because he'd chosen utilize her Quirk? Wasn't this her _job_?

What, did she think he _owed_ her something?!

"What's it to you, old lady?" he asked with a sneer.

"I like to get to know my repeat customers," she said in a friendly tone.

"Save it for someone who cares," he said, getting up to leave.

_Like Deku._

He loved this kind of thing.

They probably knew each others' birthdays and favorite foods by now.

"Good luck, I expect I'll be seeing you again soon," she sighed. She raised her voice to call after him. "Waiting Room One!"

"I know!" Kacchan shouted, stomping off down the hallway towards the waiting rooms.

He needed to get his thoughts in order. Nurse Lady's prying had been _annoying_ and brought up stuff he really couldn't afford to think about right now.

Everything had been so certain up until that villain had poured itself over him.

And then, suddenly, _nothing_ was.

Everything was unsteady.

Shifting like quicksand under his feet, slipping through the cracks between his fingers as he grasped desperately for solid ground.

His future, his strength, everything he had worked for and dreamed of...

His life.

It could all crack and dissolve and slide away in a second.

He'd trained so hard in the months after that to regain his lost feeling of security, to believe in his dream again. He had no more time for the extras, no time for games.

Games were for children, for those who could accept their own failure.

He'd wasted too much time already.

Lording it over Aldera like any of that _mattered_.

He'd been so stupid.

You couldn't succeed without focus, without _work_.

If it was easy, if it was all going well, if you were _comfortable_... You were fooling yourself: you'd already lost.

And Deku...?

Deku's months of intense training, the determination in those childish eyes, the way he disappeared after school every day, heading towards the beach, checking to see if he was being followed...

No one was following him.

_Idiot._

No one cared where he was going.

Besides, Kacchan had his own training to focus on. He needed to be _faster,_ stronger, more precise. He needed special moves, as many as he could think up, as many as he could master.

He needed to be ahead of the competition, so far ahead that they had no chance of catching up.

Turns out, the competition had been sitting in the same classroom with him all that time, making a fool out of him. Laughing at him.

He had truly thought he'd nipped that UA application nonsense in the bud.

Sure, they'd used to talk about it...

But that was back when they were _kids_.

Was Deku _ever_ going to grow up...?

And that idiot had rushed in like he could do _anything_ against the villain _Kacchan_ couldn't even beat.

Who _pros_ couldn't even beat!

That should have driven the point home.

Anyone else would have thanked their lucky stars that stupid move hadn't gotten them killed and moved on to actual reality.

Instead, Deku had apparently taken that as a signal that he _should_ apply to UA after all?!

It was the absolute worst thing that could have happened.

Although...

That was what Kacchan had thought before he knew Deku had a Quirk.

That day, with the sludge villain... That was the day it had all started.

Somehow, Deku had _changed_ that day...

And where did All Might figure into all of this...?

The whole thing was _maddening_.

None of it made any _sense_ and he just wanted to _stop thinking about it_.

Kacchan growled and kicked the door open to find himself confronted with a blank, heterochromatic stare.

"Huh?" he said. "Why are _you_ here? It's Waiting Room..." He checked the sign next to the door. "Oh, this is Room Two?" He cursed at his own stupidity.

He really couldn't get _anything_ right today.

And after that thing with the glycerin...

Why was Half and Half always sneaking around watching him screw up anyway? Didn't he have anything better to do?!

The boy with two Quirks just looked away without a word. As if Kacchan wasn't even there. As if he wasn't even worth taking notice of.

_Is that how it was?_

Well… If he thought Kacchan wasn't a threat, just because he'd made a couple of mistakes today... He was _sorely_ mistaken.

"I may have gotten the room wrong," Kacchan said, swaggering up in the way that had always worked on everyone at Aldera, Deku included, "but what kind of attitude is that towards your opponent in the final?!"

He got no response.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he demanded, swinging his dominant hand high in the air and bringing it down with an explosion designed to be as loud as possible while causing little actual damage. That move had always gotten a satisfying reaction: it had made Deku jump right out of his seat every single time back in middle school. "Where are you looking, Half and Half _yarou_?!"

Half and Half, however, didn't flinch, didn't even seem to notice. "That's..." he said quietly.

"Huh?" Kacchan asked in surprise.

What was _with_ this guy?

He wasn't much like Endeavor, that was for sure.

"... What Midoriya said to me, too," Half and Half finished.

Kacchan frowned, almost contradicting him instinctively.

He said _what?_

The whole world might be backwards and upside down. Deku might be using a powerful Quirk and Kacchan might be struggling to win against his classmates but... Was Deku really using aggressive taunts?

Kacchan hadn't been able to pick out more than an odd word or two from whatever the competitors had been saying to each other during that match.

But... Kacchan knew Deku.

Deku had never said anything rude in his entire, polite, submissive life.

Well, aside from that one time… He hadn't been all that polite at Ground Beta.

"_Baka yarou,"_ he'd screamed uncharacteristically.

That had been… _Strange_, come to think of it.

But _aggressive_?

To _someone else_?

Kacchan literally couldn't even picture those words coming out of Deku's overly-apologetic mouth.

Half and Half kept talking, as if they were having a conversation. Which they _weren't_.

"He went out of his way to destroy all the problems that I'd been carrying," he said distantly. He stared at his left hand and Kacchan remembered what he had said about not using Endeavor's power. He felt a sinking sensation, a theory.

Kuso _nerd... Always up to something..._

"You guys are childhood friends, right?" Shoto continued, oblivious. "Was Midoriya like that when you were young, too?"

And it clicked together.

So he _hadn't_ been fighting to win after all.

All of that... It had been a mockery, a challenge, a taunt.

_"You looked like you were asking for help."_

Not even that.

It was just a straight up _insult_.

_Yes, _Kacchan thought, _he _was _always like this..._

Ever since they were kids.

_"Are you ok? Can you stand?"_

Waiting for Kacchan to stumble, to mess up... Waiting until he was at his weakest, just to rub in that Kacchan couldn't always be perfect, couldn't always be strong. That his fall had been witnessed, his humiliation noted.

He'd never understood what Deku got out of that, why he had to _always_ be there at Kacchan's lowest moments. Why he couldn't just _look away_ and let Kacchan recover his pride instead of rushing in to show that he _hadn't_ stumbled, that he was the one above in those moments.

It was messed up, a sick joke.

An offense.

He'd never understood that part of Deku and apparently the nerd had now taken his hobby to the next level.

Now, suddenly, it all made a little _too much _sense. Though not to Half and Half, nor to the thousands of spectators in the stands, the millions glued to their television sets at home.

They wouldn't know.

But it was all too obvious to Kacchan. As if it was a message just for _him_.

Half and Half had problems with his parents, had been treated roughly as a child, had been the result of a marriage designed specifically to create a powerful child...

As far as that story went, Kacchan could have said the same.

And Deku might not know everything; Kacchan wasn't even sure, really, how much of it Deku had managed to put together with those eyes that were always following him, always watching.

There were things they had never talked about.

But he certainly knew _some_ of it... Because some of it, they _had_ talked about.

Kacchan had never wished so hard that he could take all of that back.

He never should have said _anything_ to that little nerd.

They had just known each other too long. Deku had seen some of Kacchan's weakest, most embarrassing moments. And he always, _always_ wanted to talk about it, always wanted to _help_.

But Kacchan didn't need any help, especially from someone who was even weaker than he was.

And nothing could make it better.

Kacchan knew Deku had never accepted that.

Since it couldn't be fixed, since it just had to be endured, Kacchan just wanted it to all _go away_. And eventually that meant that he wanted _Deku_ to go away.

But no matter how loudly he shouted, the kid just _didn't listen_.

Now here he was at UA. Like a pebble in Kacchan's shoe that he just couldn't shake loose, still following him. And still up to his old tricks.

Because it seemed that if he couldn't get to Kacchan, he would find a way to demean him by proxy.

Is this really how he felt?

Did he have such a low opinion of Kacchan's self-reliance that he would deliberately _lose a fight_ just to prove a point?

Kacchan had secretly been somewhat relieved when it turned out he wouldn't have to fight Deku in the final.

He was still scarred by seeing how far this new Deku would go...

It brought back some of his lowest moments.

Kacchan hadn't been born with an innate knowledge of how to use his Quirk. And Deku was always _right there_...

There had been an accident, once, long ago. And Kacchan had vowed there would never be any more accidents.

Still, he'd gone too far at Ground Beta.

He'd let his emotions dictate his actions and Deku had _won_... By being sure that he was the one who took all the damage.

The flashbacks had immobilized Kacchan.

In the aftermath, Kacchan wondered if that had been part of the point.

To drive home that Deku knew all of his greatest weaknesses.

Despite that, he'd found himself almost respecting that level of commitment, while he watched Deku fight Half and Half.

Though it was _stupid_.

If your Quirk was instantly taking you out of commission, you were simply using it wrong. Kacchan knew this because he had put the time in, had trained and worked. Deku thought everything was always down to natural talent and clever shortcuts.

Those things had their place, though Kacchan would never admit that to Deku, nor where he had learned it.

Still, the illusion was even better.

Indeed, before the sludge villain, everyone had looked at Kacchan with such wonder, marvelling at how he had been born so far above everyone else.

He _hadn't_, of course.

And he felt alone, being the only one who knew that.

But that was what it meant to be a hero, right?

All Might didn't have anyone else on his level because that was what happened when you were _the best_.

But in that moment, when Deku had given his all against Half and Half, when he had deliberately destroyed himself... Just to _win_. Just for the sheer joy of the conflict, for the rush of being up against someone you might not beat...

Kacchan had almost felt that maybe they weren't so different after all.

He didn't know where it had come from, hadn't even known Deku had that in him.

It made them similar in a way they never had been before. Never mind Quirks: that hadn't ever been the real rift between them, no matter what Deku might think.

They'd been friends before and after Deku turned out to be Quirkless.

Seeing Deku _try_, seeing him _fight_... It had filled Kacchan with something like hope, or desperation, or maybe just plain confusion.

He hadn't figured out what to do with that.

Turns out, he didn't need to.

Deku was using his mysterious power to do what he had always done: be a _pain_.

Getting involved where he wasn't wanted.

Kacchan wondered briefly how Half and Half had missed the obvious insult of being treated like something to be fixed, manipulated, toyed with like one of Deku's massive collection of All Might action figures.

Here he was, talking about what Deku had done as if it was _admirable_.

Deku had destroyed himself publicly, used all his apparently tremendous power... For _what_?

It hadn't been for the win.

And Deku hadn't fought like that in their training exercise, so... What, Kacchan wasn't worth it?

Wasn't powerful enough to be a real threat?

Kacchan really should have known. Deku had never followed the rules, never respected the lines Kacchan drew.

Deku had _chosen_ not to fight Kacchan in the final, instead prioritizing his manipulative emotional games against others. Trying to steal Kacchan's win without even engaging in battle.

His relief at not being matched up with Deku in the final vanished, burned up like mist under a rising summer sun.

And Kacchan just saw _red_.

If Deku wasn't here, if he was using Half and Half as a surrogate for his inability to either fight or just leave Kacchan _alone_... Then _so be it_. Kacchan would do the same.

Half and Half had beaten Deku.

So by winning against Half and Half, Kacchan would have beaten Deku, too. Would have overwhelmed all that spectacular, uncontrolled, incomprehensible power by extension.

He'd truly be Number One.

"_Kuso_ nerd..." Kacchan growled, kicking the table halfway across the empty room for emphasis. It felt good, the way his boot connected with the metal.

Though Half and Half's complete lack of a reaction was less satisfying.

He just looked down at the air where the table had been in mild confusion.

_Was he even paying attention?_

"Who cares about him?!" Kacchan shouted, his mouth running on on its own. He tried to keep it all inside, he really did, but sometimes... Times like this, he just couldn't contain it. "Seriously, who the hell cares?!"

Why was it always _freaking Deku?!_

What was so perfect about him, why was everyone always bending over backwards to praise that little nerd?

What about him was _so great_?

He thought he had it all figured out, with his perfect life and his stupid dreams, as if he knew _anything _about what the real world was like?

"Your family circumstances -" Kacchan shouted, and he noticed from a distance that Half and Half's eyes narrowed in recognition.

_Oh..._

He shouldn't even know that should he?

But Kacchan couldn't stop, his anger a runaway train that couldn't be slowed until it ran down its momentum.

"- and your _feelings_..." he continued. "I don't care about that stuff!" It was _nothing_. It was the excuse of a weakling, dwelling on things like that.

And he knew... He knew, and it just made it unspeakably worse, that what Endeavor's son had been through was so much more horrifying than anything he had ever experienced himself.

Because what had she done really, his mother?

She hadn't scarred him, wasn't mad. His parents were still together, loving and supporting each other in their mutual dislike of their son.

Sure, she'd slapped him around a little. He'd learned from it. She'd called him names and cut him down in front of company every chance she got.

But he knew in his heart that he had his own weakness to blame for being so affected by it. For letting it get to him.

Even so, he couldn't _stop _it.

She still made him feel the same, without even trying.

Which made it all so much more frustrating.

Because he knew... Someone stronger wouldn't be bothered by _any_ of that. It was so trivial, when he tried to explain it.

But apparently, Kacchan just couldn't be that strong, no matter how hard he tried.

And Deku always insisted it was a bigger deal than it was. Pulling out that oversized, sad, silent stare which was so much louder than words when Kacchan ordered him to shut up.

But it didn't sound that bad, really. There was no single, heinous act that could be put into words.

Telling others... Kacchan knew it would only make him look more pathetic.

Everyone would side with _her_.

After all, she had such a difficult child to raise, didn't she?

She practically bragged about it to her friends, painting herself as the doting, martyred mother. And they ate it up, all _oohs_ and _aahs_ and sympathetic gestures.

And she would shoot him a triumphant glance, flaunting her power.

And he couldn't say a word.

But the story of Endeavor's son... Who couldn't relate to that?

No matter how strong, who _wouldn't _be affected by something like that?

That was _real _suffering, _real_ abuse.

Half and Half had a _right_ to be affected by that.

He was a better version of Kacchan. A new and improved model.

No wonder Deku had traded up.

So... It turned out Kacchan was truly second rate, in every sense.

That was the message Deku had wanted him to hear.

The desolation hardened back into resolve.

He'd show them... He'd show them _all_.

"Just use the left side flames on me, too!" he commanded his rival. If he did, everyone would know Kacchan, too, was worth everything that could be thrown at him, worth even more than Deku. Because he would _win_. "I will hold them down from above!"

He turned away and marched out, unable to meet that broken, empty gaze any longer.

_I'll crush that Half and Half _yarou _indisputably, and then I'll be at the _top_,_ he thought.

_Just watch me... Deku._

...

Todoroki Shoto waited as the students filed out, heading home after the drama and violence of the Sports Festival.

Scratches, bumps and wounded prides bandaged up as best as they could be, waiting for time to do the rest.

Shoto had woken in Recovery Girl's office with a distinct sense of deja vu: Bakugo was screaming and swearing and struggling, Kirishima attempting to calm him.

Shoto had felt disconnected, more than ever. Distant, like he was watching his own life through a television screen along with the rest of the country, sitting comfortably on their couches at home.

He answered the questions put to him automatically and succinctly. Yes, he felt fine. No, he wasn't in pain anywhere.

He couldn't pay attention. His mind was full of his mother, his father, Midoriya. Memories of pain and fear and hope.

He hadn't even wanted to fight after that match with Midoriya... He'd stayed, he'd tried.

But this wasn't the fight for him anymore.

His battle had already moved on elsewhere, away from the stadium grounds.

"If you will behave like an animal, then I suppose we'll need to treat you as such," the Principal said from somewhere far away, the next bed over. Kirishima tried to argue but was cursed out and ignored by Bakugo and the adults, respectively, and was escorted out with Shoto.

He glanced back over his shoulder to see manacles being fastened and a gag being fitted over his raging classmate's mouth, despite Recovery Girl's disapproving protests.

There was a faint smell of smoke as the screams were muffled but no explosions.

Shoto wondered distantly why Bakugo didn't just use his Quirk to break free. He struggled as if he was fighting for his life but there was no sign of fire. In fact, though he was trying to escape, he wasn't attacking.

Shoto had noted the disconnect, wondered at it. He remembered watching the training exercises, Bakugo's matchup against Midoriya. He remembered noticing then how, though he seemed so thoughtless, so out of control, Bakugo continued to demonstrate a subtlety and rationality that a casual observer would surely have missed.

_He doesn't want to hurt them,_ he'd realized.

The full import of that hadn't hit him at the time as he took his spot on the Second Place pedestal, as the medals were given and Bakugo strained against the chains which he certainly could have prevented being constrained by in the first place.

But now...

In the quiet after the Tournament, as his thoughts settled, Shoto had put some things together.

He had something he owed and a question he needed to ask before they all left for their two days off.

He had one person he was waiting for.

Bakugo stalked past, glowering like a dangerous storm cloud, Kirishima calling after him and running to catch up.

Shoto let them go, Kirishima talking and Bakugo pointedly refusing to acknowledge his existence.

Still, Bakugo didn't leave him behind.

And Shoto remembered USJ, how Bakugo had frozen as they approached the main group of villains. How he had leapt into action, catapulting towards danger without a word, far outracing his two companions.

How he had intercepted Midoriya's headlong rush towards death just in time.

Shoto understood that a little better now.

Kirishima had indeed seen more than him, though they'd both been there.

Eventually, last of all, Midoriya and Uraraka come out together, chatting in low, serious voices.

"Midoriya," Shoto said.

The green-haired boy stopped, almost as if startled to be called out.

Todoroki could imagine that growing up friends with Bakugo could be part of the reason for that instinctive reaction.

Uraraka glanced between them and nodded somberly, walking off a little distance so they could talk in private.

"I wanted to thank you," Shoto said when they were alone.

Midoriya's eyes widened and then hardened with resolve. He nodded his acknowledgement.

"What you did for me..." Shoto eyed the other boy's injuries guiltily. "Will they heal?"

Midoriya looked away then, a bit guilty himself. "Mostly. They said the scars will still be there, even after I heal."

"Sorry," Shoto said quietly. "You gave up your chance to win, though I know what it meant to you. Why?"

The large, green eyes were hard to read.

"You hardly know me," Shoto added, watching carefully.

What Midoriya had done... It had been so clearly, so unmistakably _personal_.

"It might sound crazy," Midoriya said, fragile, apologetic, "but I just had to do it. I couldn't let you go on like that."

"I didn't ask for your help," Shoto pointed out calmly. A simple statement.

A glimmer of fear showed in Deku's eyes, rapidly quelled by steely determination. "I know."

"It was for him, wasn't it?" Tododroki asked outright then. "Bakugo."

Midoriya's jaw clamped shut in much the same way it had when Todoroki had confronted him about his connection to All Might.

"You can't say, of course," Todoroki said. "It would be a betrayal of trust. I won't press the issue."

That silence had been the only answer he needed, anyway.

"Todoroki-kun," Midoriya called as Shoto turned to go. "Why would you think that?" he asked uncertainly.

"There were a lot of reasons," Shoto mused. "I guess I had most of the pieces for a while." The disconnect between Bakugo's words and his actions, the people who chose to spend time with him, the anger... Shoto knew that anger. He'd felt it.

At first, long ago, Shoto had tried raging, shouting, open rebellion. But such behavior was not tolerated in Endeavor's kingdom and only opened up more opportunities for punishment. So when the fiery approach accomplished nothing, he froze his rage, holding it inside and letting it build, gaining strength and mass. Sharp, deadly and, he had thought, unbreakable.

He hadn't counted on it being melted in an instant.

But the expression on Bakugo's face in the nurse's office, when Recovery Girl had tried to treat his burns... That thing hiding under the rage... Shoto of all people knew what that was.

It was fear. Uncontrolled panic. The despair of being trapped and helpless.

He hadn't recognized it at first because he'd never seen it on someone else: he had only _felt_ it, on his own face.

He had made a mistake in his initial assessment of Bakugo. Maybe everyone did.

"I asked myself," Shoto continued to Midoriya, "why someone like you would be friends with someone like him." Midoriya frowned, somewhere between sad and defensive. "The answer had to be that he's not quite what he seems, but that didn't explain how _you_ knew that."

Midoriya said nothing.

"I knew you'd been friends since you were kids. But still, it was hard to imagine what you might have binding you together so strongly." He met Midoriya's gaze with narrowed eyes. "That last match... I think he wanted to be fighting you instead of me. He seems to forget all other threats when your name comes up. I wondered what he might have against you that was so terrifying to him."

"He's not like that, not all the time," Midoriya said hastily, though he seemed to be trying to convince himself.

"You don't need to apologize for him. I understand," Todoroki assured him quietly. He continued in response to Midoriya's unvoiced question. "I saw him holding back when he wanted nothing more than to fight. I think he would have done anything to escape. But he didn't want to hurt anyone, even by accident. It took me a little while to put that together, how much that changed things."

In the final match, moments from the end, he'd tried to use his fire.

But confronted by rage and a maelstrom of flames, he could only see his father.

And he _couldn't_.

He didn't want to win, not like that. It would accomplish nothing.

This wasn't his fight anymore and there were other people who needed saving.

Other places he needed to be.

So he let the fire take him.

He'd been right about that, he had no regrets.

But the connection he'd made between his classmate and his old man... He had gotten it backwards.

Bakugo's shouting and struggling, his intimidation, his shows of force...

That was all it was.

Endeavor never gave warning shots.

For all his talk, Shoto had never once seen Bakugo commit a violent act against anyone outside of combat.

And once he realized the significance of glycerin, why Bakugo might react with such visceral panic towards the harmless substance produced by his mother's Quirk...

"I thought he was like my father," Shoto explained in a low voice. Midoriya took a breath in, sharply. "But he's not, is he?" Shoto continued. "He's like me."

Troubled green eyes fell and shoulders hunched, trembling. Todoroki couldn't tell if his classmate was crying, angry, or ashamed.

"Don't say anything to him," Midoriya said with fierce desperation, face hidden.

"I won't. You have my word," Shoto said. It wasn't his place and would do more harm than good. Bakugo would surely assume Deku had betrayed him.

It was hard for Shoto to imagine, having a friend through those years of horror and despair. He wondered what it would have been like... If it would have helped to have someone else who knew, even if he couldn't escape.

And then he thought about the other side of that. He couldn't imagine the kind of strength it would have taken to stand by and watch helplessly.

Especially for someone like Midoriya.

Fighting, breaking himself like that... It must have been a relief, in a way.

"It must have killed you all those years, being unable to help him," Shoto found himself saying aloud.

Midoriya stayed silent, eyes shadowed.

"Anyway," Todoroki said, turning to leave once again. "Thank you."

"It wasn't just about him," Midoriya called from behind him. "I didn't..." He struggled, trying to find the words. "I only saw you."

"Alright." He wasn't jealous, though he supposed it was a relatable enough assumption from someone whose friend was Bakugo Katsuki. The insecurity, the isolation of knowing you were alone in the crowd... He knew it well. And he knew now how it ate away at you. "You were right, what you did. You can't always wait until someone asks you for help. If you had... You wouldn't have saved me."

Midoriya, oddly, almost looked _puzzled_ by this. As if he hadn't known how important his own actions had been.

"Where you come from, whatever your reasons," Todoroki continued. "Because of what you did... I'm free."

Midoriya looked away again, frowning down at his red shoes on the dirt path.

"But I don't suppose that will work for everyone," Shoto mused.

Bakugo might be having similar struggles to the ones Shoto was now well on his way to healing, but he was not at the same point. Forcing an epiphany wasn't so simple, nor necessarily effective or wise.

And after everything Midoriya had done, despite how much he had helped Todoroki... His friend was still trapped, still chained.

And clearly, Midoriya still couldn't change that.

"Be there when he's ready," Todoroki advised. Midoriya didn't move so Shoto came closer to put a hand on his shoulder, carefully. "Be there until he is."

There were tears and fire in Midoriya's eyes when he looked up. "Yeah," he said.

Shoto nodded and turned away to walk down the road.

"Umm," he heard from behind him when he was just past the rise.

Midoriya and Uraraka were huddled together at the top of the hill, looking at him uncertainly.

"Todoroki-kun," Uraraka said, "You take the train into the city, too, right?"

He nodded.

"Do you want to walk there together?" she asked with a cautious smile.

Shoto considered. He'd always watched the others going home in clusters, wondered what they chattered about.

He wasn't much of a conversationalist and didn't want to intrude, back then.

But now...

"Alright," he said. "Thanks."

He didn't talk much and they didn't seem to mind.

And it was nice not to be alone.

They waved cheerfully as they parted ways and Shoto continued to his father's house on his own.

He paused at the door.

He'd spent so many years dreading what lay within those walls. But now, for the first time in so long, he didn't feel fear, nor the cold anger which had replaced it later.

The prison walls had been broken down completely and now... This door was just a door.

Ironically, none of this would have happened had his old man not insisted he go to UA.

He'd handed Shoto the key to his own cell and neither of them had even realized.

Bakugo had the same key. He didn't know yet, hadn't figured out how to use it.

Shoto wanted to be a hero. He wanted to be there for the people who needed help, wanted to save as many people as he could, just as he had been saved.

Not all monsters could be defeated in physical combat and there were many who hid in plain sight, masked by society.

This wasn't news to Shoto.

But for the first time, he was actually in a position to _do_ something about it.

And though he could never repay what Midoriya had done for him... There were other ways to address that debt.

Bakugo may do his best to drive everyone away, might insist he didn't need or want any help.

But Shoto knew now that was all a lie.

He'd be there to support both of them. He owed Midoriya that much.

He'd be patient.

He could have been like Bakugo. He _had_ been. Chained and screaming.

Wounded and helpless.

He knew that pain, firsthand.

He knew Midoriya could have given up on him instead of giving everything to help him.

Now that he was free, now that he was healing... He'd be there for Bakugo whether he liked it or not.

Just like Midoriya had been for him.

Shoto hadn't even known, before, how desperately he'd needed someone to fight for him.

Maybe it took someone else to see it. Someone _outside _of the pain.

Maybe that's what heroes were for.

_The End_

* * *

This was definitely a challenge to write, especially the Canon scene between Shoto and Bakugo... But I was fascinated by their parallels and it was totally worth it.

All flashbacks were entirely Canon, including Bakugo noticing how fast Deku was at USJ.

Hope you liked it, comments are very much appreciated! :) :) 3


End file.
